Darcy to the rescue ... but where does Arabella fit in?

Women's Correctional Institute, Bangkok

Thursday 5 September

Alcohol units, 0; cigarettes 0; calories 12; size of new gap between thighs 2 inches; minutes spent contemplating beneficial effects of imprisonment on spiritual growth 53. Minutes spent imagining what new thighs will look like in white DKNY hipsters. 257.

Things could not be said to be going particularly well, but then as it is written in The Road Less Travelled self-help book it is not a question of life always turning out to be nice but of what you make of the cards which you are dealt. However, being falsely accused of drug smuggling and stuck in a Bangkok cell with 100 female criminals for the next 10 years is so far from nice as to seem unreasonable especially as Mark Darcy snogged me and then did not come back. Yesterday I told the embassy man about Mark being shoved out of the prison by a guard with a rifle afterwards and my theory that he had been banged up too.

The embassy man looked sceptical, which reminded me of when Shazzer slept with Leonard the aerobics teacher who then didn't ring and Shaz obsessively constructed an elaborate scenario, whereby Leonard had gone off on a course forgetting her number, then the answerphone not recording his message when he got back. Shaz indignantly rang British Telecom to berate them for turning her number ex-directory and took her answerphone back to John Lewis. Leonard, meanwhile, had been carrying on as normal, was shagging three other people and simply could not be arsed to explain that the reason he hadn't rung was that he was a cheap promiscuous weed with no manners.

Midnight. Aargh. Aargh. Had just got off to sleep when was woken by something sucking my neck. It was the Lesbian Ring who had got me. They all started kissing and groping bits of me. I could not bribe them to stop because I had already given away my Wonderbra and no way was I going round with no knickers. I could not scream for the guard as that is the worst thing you can do here. So I had to swap my jeans for a filthy old sarong. Although obviously I felt violated part of me could not help but feel it was so nice just to be touched. Oh My God, maybe I am a lesbian.

Friday 6 September

Flea bites 67, mosquito bites 19 (vg ) bites from other inmates 3; love- bites from lesbian convicts 4

8am. Hurrah. Another English girl has just arrived in our cell. I am so happy. I am going to have a friend to talk to and make everything seem better - though not in lesbian way. As it says in the signature tune from Friends: "I'll be there for you when the rain starts to fall."

9am. Humph. Just tried to make friends with "Arabella": but she just looked me up and down in a very superior way, said "hi, just got to make a call" then took a portable phone out of her pocket and started going, "Pony, hi, God, fucking nightmare! When's Daddy coming? Can you put me on to Hugo? "hanks". How come she has a portable phone and keeps getting taken out to go to a proper toilet? She will tell all the papers she does not like me. It will be like when all the Beirut hostages got out and it was really obvious no one liked Terry Waite.

Am thinking of becoming religious. But what if there isn't a god. It would all turn out to be a waste of time like Shazzer believing in the aerobics teacher.

Saturday 7 September

Grains of rice eaten 45, things other than rice eaten 2: 1 carrot baton, 1 piece cabbage, old cloth or similar (stir fried)

The Embassy man came today but he just spent ages talking to bloody Arabella. It turns out "Daddy" is some kind of diplomat. Then just before he left he called me over from where I was sulking and said "We've had a message from Darcy. He's gone down to the islands for a few days, he'll contact you when he gets back."

Great. While I am stuck in bloody prison Mark Darcy is sunning himself in luxury island resorts like Nick Leeson. I bet he has met some really beautiful Thai girl with clean hair and no fleas. Cried today for first time in 3 days.

Monday 9 September

The embassy man came again today, completely ignored Arabella.

"Good news, Bridget. We've spoken to Darcy. He's got 'Jed' and had him arrested. But don't build your hopes up: your only chance of early release is if he extracts a full confession." Hurrah!

Tuesday 10 September

This morning there was a commotion and Mark Darcy suddenly appeared outside the cage. Then a posh voice rang out "Mark! Oh my God. Marky! Marky!" It was bloody Arabella sticking her head through the cage.

"Arabella!", said Mark looking confused, "would you excuse me one moment" (He's so polite). When he saw me his face lit up in a lovely way so I went over to the bars. He took both my hands in his, and did not even flinch over the fleas.

"I got the bastard" he said, "and I got the confession. I'm going to take you home." Then he kissed me through the bars in full view of everyone including Arabella Harharhar. Unfortunately, however, he started kissing my neck, then suddenly recoiled.

"Bridget," he said, looking at me in total horror. "How in the name of arse have you managed to get a love-bite?"